


Impossible Things Just Happen (and we call them miracles)

by allonsy_gabriel



Series: Another 51 [36]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Crowley Loves Humanity, Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Emotional Baggage, I Don't Even Know, Light Angst, Pretentious, Questions, The Doctor (Doctor Who) Needs a Hug, The Doctor Loves Humanity, but this isn't that type of fic, i guess?, over being immortal and kinda emo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 11:18:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy_gabriel/pseuds/allonsy_gabriel
Summary: The shop windows were dark, the streets were quiet, the stars were shining overhead, and the blue box sat back in an alleyway in Soho.A man clad in all black rested his hand against the wood and took a breath.





	Impossible Things Just Happen (and we call them miracles)

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory dw/go fic  
this wasn't supposed to be sad,,,

The shop windows were dark, the streets were quiet, the stars were shining overhead, and the blue box sat back in an alleyway in Soho.

A man clad in all black rested his hand against the wood and took a breath.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the man said. “Your people, they’re all—”

“Gone,” the Doctor replied solemnly.

“Gone,” the man repeated, nodding in agreement. “But you’re not.”

“No,” the Doctor confirmed. “Not me.”

_ Never me _ .

“Why’re you here? Now?”

“You know, I’m sure you do.”

“I really,  _ really _ don’t—”

“The universe  _ shook _ ,” the Doctor said. “I felt it. Somewhere, here on Earth, something happened, and it shifted the fabric of creation.”

“And you came running.”

“I did.”

He’d never met the man, but he had seen him. Sitting in a bar in Rome, in the balcony at one of William’s plays, in France during the revolution.

He was impossible to miss, the way people always notice their reflection in shop windows and puddles.

_ I never forget a face. _

And yet, looking at the man now is strange, off-putting and unsettling. It’s like someone’s messed with a photograph, decreased the saturation in some spots and increased it in others. Dark clothes, bright hair, too-crooked smile, and too-loose hips. It’s all a bit flash, a bit rock ‘n roll, a bit  _ devil-may-care _ in a way  _ he  _ never was.

There’s something about him, something the Doctor knows all-too-well, something impossible and old and oh-so tired.

The man seems as if he’s been on the earth since it began, and he hasn’t been taking any short cuts.

“Hate to say it, but you’ve wasted a trip,” the man said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Just missed it. Three days, I think.”

The Doctor wanted to argue, to say that that was  _ impossible _ , that he didn’t  _ miss _ anything if he didn’t want to, that three days was nothing but child’s play to him, but he didn’t.

He didn’t. He knew, somehow, it would be a lie. The rules for this game were different. 

It wasn’t as if the things that had happened, the yanking of the universal strings, were fixed points in time.

It was that they weren’t points in time at all.

Done and undone in the same breath, written over in different coloured ink.

Not erased, but not there, not really.

“You had something to do with it.”

Not a question. No need for questions when he knew the answer.

“Yup.”

“And it’s over?”

“I bloody well hope so.”

“And they’re safe?” the Doctor asked.

“As safe as they ever are, I suppose.”

_ They _ , not  _ we _ . Not  _ us _ .

“Who are you?” the Doctor asked.

_ What are you? _ he thought.  _ Why do you cover your eyes? Why do you make me feel young? _

“No one, not really, Not anymore, anyway,” the man replied. “But I am going to be late getting home if we keep carrying on, and I wouldn’t want to worry the angel. Ciao.”

And with that he was gone, turning a corner the Doctor hadn’t seen before, disappearing into the dark.

Down the street, an old motor rumbled.

The Doctor stood in front of his old blue box, and felt something like magic in the air.

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts Please


End file.
